Willing Experiments
by Keikokin
Summary: There are some experiments that John Watson is willing to endure.


Title: Willing Experiments

Author: Keikokin

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Pairing: Johnlock

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Sherlock is the property of the BBC. No maliciousness is intended. No profit if being made.

Authors note: This is my third story in this fandom – in one day!

Sherlock grit his teeth as he watched John leave. He watched as he walked away without looking back. With a scream of anguish, he began to play in such a pitch that the neighborhood cats began to scream. Mrs. Hudson poked at her ceiling with a broom. Becoming quickly bored, he put the violin down and sat down to think.

Fact one: John is not gay.

Fact two: John is on another date.

Fact three: I will disrupt the date.

Fact four: John will leave his date and come home to me.

Mrs. Hudson bustled in. "Oh I'm so glad that you stopped playing that dreadful song dear. Would you like some tea and biscuits? Only I know John just went out on another date. Silly that, don't see why he bothers. He's so happy here with you. Did you have words Sherlock?"

"No, Mrs. Hudson. John is not gay."

"I'd bet you 100 euros he is!" She giggled like a schoolgirl, much to Sherlock's amusement. "He just isn't interested in any other men." She reached out and patted Sherlock on the cheek. "He'll be back dear, you'll see."

Sherlock smiled as he watched her go. He picked up a biscuit and nibbled at it absently. His phone lit up with a text and he looked down to see it was from Lestrade. "I have a case, interested?"

"Where?" SH"

Sherlock quickly wrote down where he was going, ripped the paper off the pad and dashed out the door of the flat.

It was dark when John entered the flat. The date had gone fairly well, but when he kissed the girl goodnight all he saw was Sherlock's face. "I'm back early Sherlock." He waited for the inevitable jibe, but was met only with silence. He looked around the flat spotting the cold tea and a half-nibbled biscuit. He put it in his pocket then decided to pick up the rest. His eyes lit on the pad on the table and after finding a pencil, rubbed on the opposite side of the top paper to make out what it said. All this time with Sherlock had paid off and he watched with satisfaction as an address appeared. "A case!" John smiled and was on his way to the scene of the crime in a few minutes.

When he arrived at the scene, Sherlock was bent over two bodies, covered in bodily fluids. The smell of sex hung in the air. Blood covered the sheets. But there was no sign of it anywhere else in the room. He walked over and stood next to Sherlock. "Anything interesting?"

"You tell me." Sherlock looked up expectantly, not at all surprised at his arrival.

"The blood is only on the bed. Maybe they were moved?"

Sherlock lit up with pride. "Go on." John nodded and ignoring Anderson completely bent over the bodies. "They had sex and were moved back here to the scene of the encounter, perhaps by a jealous lover? There's bruising on the heads, as if dragged. But they'd need to keep the sheet from leaking blood onto the floor." Sherlock smiled with a nod of encouragement. "So there should be a tarp or something around here covered in debris that might give us a clue to the original scene of the crime?"

"But it's on the third floor!" Anderson shouted in protest. "So they were killed right here. The lover found them and murdered them both!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He stood, brushed off his hands on his tailored pants and took a look around the room. "There!" He pointed happily at a dumb waiter, where a small slip of shiny fabric was spilling out. It was the same sort of plastic used in bins. He spun on his heels looking back at John. "Why?"

John pursed his lips. "The killer wanted our sympathies?"

"Oh for crying out loud! Detective Inspector, do I have to deal with these amateurs all the time?"

"Oh do shut up Anderson, before I have you fired for incompetence. Dr. Watson would make a lovely applicant, don't you agree." Anderson wisely shut up and left the room.

Sherlock put a hand on each side of John's face. "Why does the killer want us to feel sorry for him?"

"Um, because he's done worse? Maybe he can't stop himself? Or maybe this has happened before and it was very publically known?" John guessed.

Sherlock jumped up, hugged John tightly and ran off all in one seamless motion, the trademark coat swirling at his heels. John jumped up to follow. He ignored Donovan's call of "freak" as he left the room. It only took a few minutes to find Sherlock searching through the neighbors bins before he found a matching plastic. "Inspector Lestrade. I suggest you look into the affairs of the lady of this house."

"A woman did that?" The Inspector sputtered indicating the bloody bed with a jerk of his head. "Are you sure Sherlock?"

"Quite, a man seeking revenge would have been more violent and left blood everywhere. A woman would be more concerned for the state of the house and clean up. The kill was clean and precise. The only reason there was so much blood was that the man was killed first trying to protect his lover and she spread it about a bit trying to escape from his dead weight. Her lovers protection and a jealous wife. She never stood a chance. Honesty Lestrade, call me when there's something more interesting. John almost solved the entire case on his own!" He stood and asked over his shoulder. "Coming John?"

John trotted up along side Sherlock, only taking a slight jog every now and again to catch up. "That was brilliant, as always."

Sherlock smiled at John. His face then became stony. "How was your date?"

"She let me kiss her."

"Oh."

John looked at Sherlock gauging his reaction to his next words. "But I think you could kiss far better. I'm not planning on seeing her again. I enjoy a good kiss don't you?"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks and grabbed John by the coat collar dragging him into a nearby alley. "I do." He bent down and kissed John Watson, until his head spun and oxygen became a priority. Sherlock pulled away and waited.

"I think some practice might be in order." John smiled.

"And research," Sherlock smiled back.

"Experimenting," John chuckled trying to match his pace to Sherlock who was half running back to their flat.

"Oh John Watson, I believe you know the way to my heart." Sherlock said with a huge grin, stopping and spinning John around in a happy circle. They had arrived at Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson popped out the window. "Oh good you're back. Did you make up then? Go ahead. I want to see a good proper snog before I –"

The invite was barely out of her mouth before Sherlock swept down and kissed John. Repeatedly. The sound of clapping disrupted them. "Oh good," Mrs. Hudson was clearly the source of the applause. I'll go ring Mycroft then, he'll be so pleased to start plans."

"Plans?" John asked nervously, yet smiling all the while. Sherlock had wrapped one arm around his waist and John was leaning into it.

"For the wedding of course!" She vanished behind the lacy curtains. John turned nervously to Sherlock. "Tell me she was joking."

"Doubtful," Sherlock conceded taking the steps to the flat two at a time.

"You'd seriously marry me? I have nothing to offer. We've only started this today!"

"Mycroft loves weddings. And I hardly care that you have anything material to offer, as long as you're part of the deal."

"Sherlock," John whispered. Sherlock shrugged. "Mycroft knows that, so does Mummy."

"Oh god, I'll have to meet Mummy?" John sank into his chair.

"If you don't want to –" Sherlock didn't get the chance to finish. John had stood quickly, grabbed Sherlock and dragged him into his lap. The chair was too small and Sherlock wriggled a bit tossing his legs over the arm of the chair and snuggling into John's chest. "I'd understand John."

"Sherlock Holmes. I'd follow you anywhere even to the altar."

"Don't joke with me John."

"I'm not."

"Do you love me John?"

"I don't know. Do you love me Sherlock?"

"I've never really been in love, so I don't know either. But we could find out –"

"With some of those experiments?" John teased happy to see the mischievous look return to Sherlock's beautiful eyes. "I never wanted anything more."

Sherlock laid down and pulled John into a long, heated kiss. John received a text during the kiss. But he didn't get the chance to check it until several hours later. He and Sherlock had been far too busy. It was from Mycroft, simple and to the point.

"Welcome to the family."

He also wrote out a check for $200 euros to Mrs. Hudson that she was happily to collect along with the $E100 euros from Sherlock the next day. She took advantage of both winnings and spent the weekend at Brighton. It had suddenly gotten quite noisy in the upstairs flat, and this time it _wasn't _the violin.


End file.
